


A Can Of Worms

by InnocentDumpling



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Childhood Friends, Confessions, Developing Relationship, Dorks in Love, Feelings Realization, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mutual Pining, Roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 13:34:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29296722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InnocentDumpling/pseuds/InnocentDumpling
Summary: Oikawa and Iwaizumi move in together after high school ends and Oikawa finds himself drawn to a strange, battered old box that Iwaizumi refuses to let Oikawa carry or open. As Iwaizumi takes a shower the box ‘mysteriously’ falls over, spilling its secrets all over the floor. What has he been hiding? [Iwaoi]
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime & Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 3
Kudos: 33
Collections: Iwaoi Server Valentine Exchange 2021





	A Can Of Worms

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chajizuma](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chajizuma/gifts).



> I really had a great time writing this piece! It was fun exploring what could unfold between this chaotic duo when they move in together.
> 
> I hope you enjoy your gift Chajizuma! Thanks so much for a wonderful prompt.

There were many mysteries in life. Things that no matter how hard Oikawa thought about it, he could never truly find an answer for. Why people would commit the blasphemous action of mixing soy sauce and ketchup together, how anyone in their right mind would consider wearing tights as pants outside their home and the horrifying concept of men not waxing their body hair. But the biggest mystery of all had presented itself in the last few hours. Iwaizumi’s suspicious-looking moving box.  
  
At first, it hardly garnered any of his attention. It was just one of the many moving boxes that they were pilling into a moving van. But to be told he couldn’t touch or open it under any circumstance by his spiky-haired roommate did nothing but rouse his insatiable curiosity.  
  
Just what on earth was he hiding in there?  
  
“Iwa-chan, if you’re hiding the body of an ex-girlfriend in that stinky old box, you would tell me right?” Oikawa teases, knowing full well that his kind-hearted, childhood friend didn’t have so much as an aggressive bone in his body. His mouth on the other hand was a different story. Always packing a witty hurtful remark. There was hardly ever a moment when his comments lacked an insult of sorts.  
  
Rolling his eyes, Iwaizumi exhales heavily, hands tightening around the steering wheel as he drove the truck down the road. “Shut up Nosey-kawa! There’s nothing notable in that box and it doesn’t smell!” he barks in response, eyes narrowing as he flicks his indicator on and comes to a complete stop, the small van shuddering causing them both to jolt forward a fraction. “Just let it go already. It’s just some girly crap my cousin Sayuri told me to hide at my place for her.”  
  
Oikawa shudders, eyes widening as he stares across at Iwaizumi, lost for words until a small smile teased at the corners of his lips. It had to be a joke. A poor attempt to frazzle him into submission. Frowning, he playfully pushes his former teammate’s shoulder. “Don’t try and make me uncomfortable with feminine things!”  
  
Scoffing, Iwaizumi slides a hand from the wheel, immediately reaching across and flicking Oikawa square in the forehead. “Calm down! I’m not trying to do that! It’s just what’s in there you idiot,” he retorts, eyes remaining fixed on the clear road up ahead as he turned into the street beside them. “So unless you want to see my cousin’s undergarments and other disgusting things she shoved in there, I’d leave the box alone.”  
  
It was a trick, surely. But since when was he a liar? It was difficult to even recall a single instance when he dared to state an untruth. Even when it came to trivial matters. Twisting his lips, Oikawa turns away, eyes narrowing. “You’re such a meanie, Iwa-chan…”  
  
His tone was enough to make Iwaizumi’s heart sink, guilt immediately gripping him as he turned down another side street; nothing but the loud ticking of the van’s indicator filling the air between them. Swallowing hard, Iwaizumi exhales heavily. “You always deserve it. You’re a handful and you know it,” he retorts, his voice lacking the usual energy it always had.  
  
Oikawa’s gaze darts across to his childhood friend, his lips relaxing into a gentle smile. “You know you love it. You’re secretly a big softie Iwa-chan!” he chimes enthusiastically, warmness spreading through his chest as he turns to face him. Any disappointment or frustration he felt in his presence was short-lived. It was impossible to be upset with someone whose cheekbones appeared as if the Gods themselves had chiselled them.  
  
A knowing, yet somewhat hesitant smile tugs at the corners of Iwaizumi’s proud lips. “I swear being a pain in the ass is your default setting,” he fires back, a soft snicker escaping him shortly after his statement trailed from his lips. It was impossible to not enjoy the banter. He was a pain, but he was _his_ pain.  
  
“You must be a sucker for pain then,” Oikawa responds as he extends an arm out in his friend’s direction, pressing a finger into his plush cheeks playfully. “You’re the one that decided you wanted to move in with me after all, roomie.”  
  
Iwaizumi raises a brow as he feels Oikawa’s finger dig into his cheek, a clear attempt to try and provoke him. But nothing would get a rise out of him today. Nothing could ruin this moment. He was moving in with him, his childhood friend and lifelong secret crush. Today the gap between them was sure to become a little smaller. Nothing could take the excitement of that away, not even Oikawa’s mischievous yet somewhat infuriating habits.  
  
“Oh, we’re here!” Oikawa calls out, plucking his finger from his cheek as he leans forward, palms pressed against the dashboard in anticipation. His eyes rake up the side of the building as he grins; “Well I guess this is home!”  
  
Heat rushes through Iwaizumi as he tries to focus on curbside parking only to be distracted by the handsome creature beside him. His wholesome comment paired with the most sincere smile he had displayed that day was nothing short of a dangerous combination, especially while trying to operate heavy machinery. Weathered hands tighten around the steering wheel as he presses his eyes shut for a millisecond, attempting to compose himself.  
  
Suddenly, a loud metallic clank rings through the air.  
  
“Did you just hit that car in front of us?” Oikawa laughs loudly in disbelief, tears pooling at the corners of his eyes as his lips ripple. “There’s only one car parked on this entire street and you hit it! Iwa-chan you are an awful driver. Just stick to volleyball!”  
  
Iwaizumi’s cheeks flush a deep shade of red as his foot slams on the break. Eyes twitch as he stares ahead at the tiny car he had rear-ended for long moments, the sound of Oikawa’s incessant mocking laugh echoing through his head. The worst part of it all was that he was right. How the heck did he even manage to get so distracted that something this obscenely embarrassing would occur?  
  
Nothing could ruin this day. Nothing could get a rise out of him. Nothing.  
  
“How about you shut the fuck up! I’d like to see you drive this stupid rust bucket Loserkawa!” Iwaizumi snaps, his head spinning in the direction of his idiotic crush.  
  
So much for just enjoying the moment.  
  


* * *

  
Hours rolled by and before Oikawa knew it they were both neck-deep in unpacking. Boxes and a wide variety of household items and clothing scattered across their quaint bachelor pad in mildly organised piles.  
  
“Yoo-hoo, Iwa-chan! Can we stop already? I’m starving!” He whines, scrunching his handsome features as he pouts. “It’s dinnertime, I don’t even know where my wall clock is but my stomach is telling me it is, so it must be!”  
  
Iwaizumi pokes his head out of his newly claimed bedroom down the hall, an exasperated expression printed across his face. His gaze travels down the hall, locking onto his new roommate who was nestled amongst a sea of boxes on the loungeroom floor. “I mean, I’m hungry too but we can’t head out stinking of sweat and dust,” he notes as he sniffs his underarms. “No one will let us in if we stink this bad.”  
  
“They used to let us into restaurants when we went out post-game with the guys,” he states matter of factly, frowning as he watches him carefully. It was difficult to know for sure, but he was almost positive he was searching for excuses to _not_ leave the apartment. “Does being seen having dinner with another man embarrass you, Iwa-chan?” he enquires, his voice dripping with mischievousness yet somewhere underneath it all there was a glimmer of fear. “You’re always so cruel!”  
  
Iwaizumi winces as Oikawa’s words cut through him. Of course, it was an empty, playful statement but to him, it was more than that. If it were true it would be nothing but a shallow admission to self-loathing. But how was Oikawa to know that? His sexuality wasn’t something he openly wished to discuss with the playful fool he had grown up with. Not due to fear of rejection, Oikawa was not the type to judge him to such an abysmal level. Truth be told, the desire to open up to him was overwhelming, but the fear of certain questions arising was all-consuming. His feelings, his desires; they had to stay locked away. Sharing them would be nothing short of excruciating, especially knowing his adoration for the opposite sex.  
  
“Do I look like someone who is uncomfortable with their sexuality?” Iwaizumi responds dismissively, eyes narrowing as he slowly starts to make his way down the hallway. Stopping at the end of the corridor he leans up against the wall, a muscular forearm bearing the weight of his figure as he crossed one leg in front of the other and smirked. “The only embarrassing part of eating with you is your rude eating habits. Even five-year-old kids know not to point at things with their chopsticks and to not leave any food on your plate,” he taunts, quick to divert the topic of conversation to bait the other party with an opportunity he could not resist; an opening to be dramatic.  
  
“Hey! You know I try to remember not to do those things. Sometimes I just forget! Besides it’s a known fact that my eyes are always bigger than my stomach,” Oikawa whines defensively, lips pursing together as he stares up at his cocky roommate. It wasn’t as if he didn’t have a point. Logic was the basis for almost all of Iwaizumi’s comments and stances on matters. At the core, he was fueled by facts with a hint of competitiveness, but that didn’t make it any less irksome to hear his flaws vocalised.  
  
Oikawa slowly peels himself off the floor, brows furrowed. “Let’s just go eat or I’ll have to start eating all your secret snacks, or whatever is really in that box you were so weird about earlier,” he teases, lips curving upwards into a mischievous grin as watches Iwaizumi’s overconfident expression morph into a look of terror and annoyance. He made it too easy.  
  
“It’s not food Shittykawa!” Iwaizumi snaps, pushing off the wall and sliding his hands into his track pants’ pockets, frustration consuming him in an instant. “Why can’t you drop this topic already?”  
  
“Oooh, progress! What is it then?” Oikawa urges, his eyebrows wiggling in triumph. It was never difficult to get a reaction out of him, but this topic was the jackpot. Every taunt elicited a response. It was a troll’s dream come true. “A box of love letters from girls you’ve hooked up with? Embarrassing childhood stuff? There are so many options!” he continues to taunt, his smile growing broader as he awaited his companion’s response.  
  
A drawn-out groan escapes Iwaizumi’s lips as he rolls his eyes. He knew better than to fall for his taunts and yet, here he was. How did it end up like this? “Oh my god, calm down!” he barks, eyes lit with frustration. “I told you it’s some embarrassing shit my cousin wants me to keep here for her!”  
  
“Fine, fine!” Oikawa responds dismissively, waving a hand in his grumpy companion’s direction; “Your dirty little secret can’t be _that_ interesting anyway.”  
  
Dirty little secret. That comment alone was enough to spur Iwaizumi to fire back with yet another irritable remark, but that was what Oikawa wanted. Winding him up was a sport for him.  
  
Taking a deep breath, Iwaizumi rolls his shoulders backwards, eyes narrowing as he held his tongue for a moment. “Good! Since we already unpacked the bathroom, I’m gonna have a shower. I smell like shit,” Iwaizumi responds, at last, turning to walk back up the hallway only to stop after a few short steps. He spins on his heel, jutting his index finger aggressively in Oikawa’s direction; “Stay out of my room, got it?”  
  
Oikawa gasps dramatically, a hand slamming hard against his chest as his eyes widened in false shock. “I’m offended! Do you think I lack self-control? Me?”  
  
“Oh please! I know you, dumbass,” Iwaizumi fires back as he stares at the dramatic man performing before him. Part of him wanted to lock his bedroom door, to shut him and his insatiable curiosity out of his personal space, but he hadn’t given him a reason to not trust him. Not in all the years that he had known him.  
  
Sighing dramatically, Oikawa steps over the boxes, swiftly closing the gap between them. The scent of sweat and dust immediately assaulting his nostrils. “On second thought, you reek. Get your stinky butt in the shower or I’m leaving without you,” he teases, lifting his shirt up and over his nose in a poor attempt to block out the offensive scent.  
  
“Alright. I’ll be back in five minutes,” Iwaizumi laughs, tugging Oikawa’s shirt down from his nose, forcing him to breath in his scent before walking off, smirking. “For the record, you need a shower too, Stenchkawa” he adds as he reaches the bathroom door, darting out of sight in an instant.  
  
Pouting, Oikawa stares blankly at the bathroom door. He had no qualms about showering, on the contrary, hygiene was always of the utmost importance. But that nickname was not cute in the slightest. “Yeah well, watch me go and roll all over your bed then, Iwa-chan,” he whispers somewhat bitterly, eyes darting Iwaizumi bedroom door.  
  
Part of him knew it was immature and perhaps a touch disgusting to stoop so low, but he had a reputation to uphold and a sense of order to maintain. A wicked smirk grips his lips as the sound of the shower echoes through the apartment.  
  
It was time to strike.  
  
Snickering manically, Oikawa waltzes up the hallway, immediately crossing the threshold into Iwaizumi’s room. Dark eyes scan the space carefully as he traces his fingertips across the top of the boxes piled upon his desk; each meticulously labelled and left half-open. Except one. His lips twist as he eyes the grubby box resting at the end of the desk carefully, it was highly unlikely to contain anything noteworthy. Iwaizumi was never the type to keep overly exciting secrets, but something about this box called to him. Beckoning him to rip off the sticky-tape and uncover it’s contents.  
  
Tearing his gaze away with a sigh, he strides across the room, promptly throwing his nimble body backwards onto his bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling. He had the purest of intentions, venturing into his bedroom, to simply roll around on his bed wiping his sweat all over his duvet, perhaps leaving a sweaty sock hidden under somewhere to drive him crazy if he had the time. But now, seeing that same old box sitting there all sealed up, he could feel his intentions changing. Curiosity consuming him.  
  
Sighing, Oikawa props himself upright, his elbows pressing into the duvet, eyes narrowing as he stares at the box in question. “He’s so defensive about it, so it has to be embarrassing. Probably just his porn collection or something,” he muses to himself, a soft chuckle escaping him as he rises to his feet, his thin lips curving into a devious smile as he closes the gap between him and the box.  
  
“The moment of truth,” he whispers dramatically, ripping off the masking tape that sealed the top of the box with haste causing it to lift off the desk and come crashing down to his feet in an instant. “Ah crap!” he curses, a cold feeling washing over him as he freezes, fingers still pinching the short length of masking tape as his gaze drops to the floor.  
  
Throat tightening, the former setter drops to his knees, eyes flicking anxiously from item to item as he felt his heart rate skyrocket as he took in the sight before him. Of all the things he guessed the box might contain, not once had he considered that it could be a memory box and not just any memory box. One seemingly focused on him.  
  
Nervous hands sift through the sea of photos, snapshots dating back to their kindergarten days skidding across the carpet only to be replaced by countless other memories buried beneath. Photos of them playing under the sprinkler in elementary school and even more recent shots of them messing around after volleyball practice in high school. Then there was a tightly bound bundle of envelopes, quite considerable thickness wise, with the top letter clearly marked with his name.  
  
Heat flushes across his cheeks as he reaches forward, plucking the bundle of envelopes from the sea of memories scattered around him. Part of him knew there was no real need to open the envelope in order to discover it’s secrets. The answer was clear as day without crossing the line even further. He cared for him, in a way that exceeded the station of friendship. The thought alone was enough to stir something deep within him.  
  
“Tooru...”  
  
The sound of Iwaizumi’s voice tears through the air causing Oikawa’s hairs to stand on end, anxiety consuming him. He had been caught in the act and the disappointment that dripped from Iwaizumi’s voice was enough to make him feel sick to his stomach. “It fell over!” he responds lamely, nervous eyes flicking up to the handsome half-dressed man standing in the doorway.  
  
Iwaizumi’s gaze drifts down to Oikawa’s hands and the mess surrounding him. An accident? Unlikely. “If you want to move out, I understand,” he responds flatly as he walks behind him, making a beeline for his wardrobe to find a fresh change of clothes. Swallowing hard, he squeezes his eyes shut, throat tightening as he tries his best to suppress the fear of rejection swirling within his chest.  
  
“Why would I do that?”  
  
His eyes widen, as he listens in disbelief. Where was he going with this? Was it yet another one of his little games or just a new opportunity to torment him? Suddenly, the sound of footsteps fill the air and a split second later two warm muscular arms encircle his chest holding him tight.  
  
“I know these are love letters, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa whispers, a hand clutching the envelopes lifting upwards. A smile creeps across his lips as he sighs contently, proceeding to press his forehead against the back of Iwaizumi’s head.  
  
Taking a sharp breath, Iwaizumi stiffens; his eyes trembling as his gaze remains fixed on the bundle of letters. Each bearing a painful memory of times in which he wished he could confess his true feelings for his childhood crush. But instead of taking the plunge, he hid them away, unable to peel back the curtain and expose himself for the person he truly was. A gay individual who loved his best friend beyond reason. The cost of rejection was simply too steep.  
  
“You haven’t even opened one of them, it could be abusive letters about how annoying you are for all you know,” Iwaizumi retorts dismissively in self-defence.  
  
A sincere laugh slips from Oikawa’s lips as he lets the letters fall to the floor. “They aren’t. I know they aren’t because I know the man I love better than he thinks,” he notes, heart pounding wildly in his chest as he tightens his embrace.  
  
It was a shot in the dark at best. Slightly educated but still unfounded when it came down to the minor facts at hand that were easily dismissable. But something inside him lent him to hope. Urging him to make the first step and test the waters. His assumption made a lot of sense, it would explain his overprotective nature and his odd sensitivity when it came to his fraternising with fangirls after practice over the years.  
  
But never in his wildest dreams had he considered that he might return the sentiments he felt for him. It seemed outlandish, an unrealistic dream and yet when presented with the evidence at hand, no matter how minor they might seem, somehow, at last, he felt within reach. Like all the pieces of the puzzle were trying to come together.  
  
Shock envelops Iwazumi as he stands there, lost in thought. It was difficult to even process the situation at hand. One minute he was expecting Oikawa to run for the hills, desperate to sever ties with him due to his obsessive hoarding of memories and the homosexual undertones that box contained. The next he was held captive for all intents and purposes in Oikawa’s embrace, his hot breath creeping down his neck as he confessed his feelings.  
  
“You’re an idiot, you know that?” he responds at last, his voice quivering ever so gently as tears stung at the corners of his eyes. “Anyone else would’ve opened at least one of those letters.”  
  
“Iwa-chan, you’re so mean! I just told you I love you and you have to go and call me names,” Oikawa grumbles as he pulls his head backwards, frowning. “I was exhibiting self-control, y—”  
  
Iwazumi turns to face him, his hands flicking up to seize his talkative crushes cheeks and tugging him downwards. Their lips brush gently across one another’s, until Iwazumi pulls back, a smirk settling across his lips; “You’re still an idiot, Shittykawa.”  
  
“And you’re still cruel to me, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa quips, his lips curving upwards into a mischievous knowing smile. “I kinda want to read those mushy love letters now.”  
  
“Over my dead fucking body!”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! 
> 
> If you have a moment please consider leaving a review as I’d love to hear your feedback and thoughts on this story.
> 
> If you want to chat you can find me over on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/ImpureDumpling).


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